Sweet as Sin
by xShadow.of.the.Sunx
Summary: It started with a dream of a Lady in White and ended with a woman made into reality. Lucy, as Victoria was coming to learn, was as sweet as honey and deadlier than poison. She speaks of madness, yet somehow Victoria believes there may be something more.
1. The White Lady and Her Parasol

**NOTE:** So, I just looked today at my posts, only to realize that I totally posted the WRONG thing for this story. So, after pulling this massive stupid on my part, here's the actual chapter and a big oopsie and sorry from me! ^^;

_Sweet as Sin:_ It started with a dream of a Lady in White and ended with a woman made into reality. Lucy, as Victoria was coming to learn, was as sweet as honey and deadlier than poison. She speaks of madness, yet somehow Victoria believes there may be something more.

**Chapter One**

_The White Lady and Her Parasol_

_The place was a home- a building with four safe walls acting together to enclose the warmth and love of a group of people, a family. The walls were a soft off-white, on the border of a cheery yellow, and the floors were a wooden mahogany. Picture frames littered nearly every available surface and, as they lined up, a timeline of the building's occupants was told. The home was generic, in all sense, but something about it pulled at the police girl's heart._

"_Where am I?" She wondered aloud. The words that fell from her lips were just a whisper of thought, but in the empty house, it echoed as loud as a scream. The blonde English-woman reached out a gloved hand to pick up and ivory framed photograph. Inside, she found three people, all of which bore no face. The crimson eyed girl frowned as she set it back down. She moved to observe many of the other photographs, only to discover that the same, faceless subject was in every single one. She picked up one on the end of the mantle on the wall. Two people, a male and female, stood tall, hugging each other from the side. She imagined that they were happy, and that there were mirrored, bright smiles etched upon their faces. A single girl was melded in between the two- a daughter; she, too, was very similar in both appearance as well as her happy demeanor. _

_A knock on the door made her jump. She turned around and in an instant, everything had changed. _

_The sun, which had been flowing through the window to tickle her skin, had been snatched away by the night. In an instant, three figures appeared- one at the door, the man; one in the doorway of another room, the woman; and one huddled next to the leg of the woman, the girl. _

_The door burst open and several men in black rushed into the house. Two grabbed either arm of the man and slammed him against the wall of the supposed safe home. "No!" The English-woman yelled; her arm shot out towards the struggling man and her feet tried to move, but it was too late._

_Blood began to seep through the walls, staining the once happy memories red. Chaos quickly erupted as an array of screams and violence began. The blonde tried to look away from the gory site, but she found that her crimson eyes were attracted to the same color adorning the walls. Internally, her mind was reeling, but on the outside, her body drew her nearer, her instincts craved the massacre…_

_The woman grabbed the child by the shoulders and dragged herself along with the child into the room. She quickly shut the door as quietly as she could in her rush. The blonde, despite herself, found herself sucked through the red walls into the room._

_The mother opened the door to the closet and ushered the child in, to shelter her from the inevitable loss she would soon suffer. The woman bent down, still faceless, as tears ran down like streams. She whispered softly, a soothing terror trembling in her voice, "Seras!" She kissed the sobbing child upon her forehead and pushed her behind several garments. "Stay here! No matter what happens, don't come out!" The mother backed away and softly shut the door. Afterwards, her footsteps nearly broke the child's eardrums as the mother dashed out of the room in hopes of saving her husband, as well as her child. _

"_Mum?" The blonde overseer whispered, her eyes wide in horror. Her hands began to shake and her legs nearly caved in. All of the memories as well as the blood began to rush to her head. The horror of the events going on around her and the desire for them to keep going nearly burst her brain into splinters. Her lips parted to let out a scream, a sound which combined with a similar sound from another room to create the epitome of a true "nightmare"._

"_No!" The blonde's eyes screwed shut and her fists flew to her head as a bout of familiar insanity racked her cranium. The men from earlier knocked the door to the bedroom open; the woman fell inward onto the floor. The blonde knew what would happen next, and at that moment, she would trade anything in the world not to relive the seeing what she'd seen so many years ago from her hiding spot in the closet. _

_She could feel herself screaming on top of her lungs for it all to stop, but the screams of the woman easily drowned her out. 'Please', she cried as she mentally reached out for someone, anyone, to lend her a helping hand._

"_Seras," a soothing, warm voice whispered in her ear. She felt warmth at her fingertips. A sudden burst of light suffocated the screams and the blood; her eyes fell shut._

_When they reopened, she found herself in her bed at the Hellsing mansion. The florescent lights were on, a feat she rarely enforced while she slept. She looked down upon her apparel to find the usual blue outfit she adorned while on the job for the Hellsing Organization. The soft ruffle of clothing forced her eyes to lift from her own clothing. _

_Her crimson eyes met with white lace. 'A parasol?' She thought, surprised that any person would have such a thing indoors. But the real surprise came when the lace umbrella was raised like a veil for curtain call. A bright smile of a stunningly beautiful woman- a girl who seemed the same age as herself- greeted her. Her hazel-brown eyes dazzled her and her creamy porcelain skin glowed as if the sun were shimmering off of snow. _

_Her clothing made a ruffling sound again as she moved to close the lace umbrella; once closed, she set it down on the floor next to the simple wooden chair she occupied. "Hello," she greeted with a shy nod of her head. _

_Seras stared in awe. She knew almost immediately that she was in a dream._

_The woman before her had long, dark brown hair. The lengthy locks fell down past her waist in straight, coffee-colored streams. Her figure was one of envy; so much so that the out-dated dress she sported seemed as if it were brand new. The dress of mentioning was a silk white with white lace sleeves. The style was one she'd seen in history books, from the Victorian era. The dress fell in pools to the floor, but her crossed legs revealed the white Adelaide boots underneath. Her attire matched up perfectly, all except for one single oddity…_

'_Is that?' Seras blinked, as if the action would make the device go away. It didn't. 'It is!' She thought, perplexed. Around the mystery woman's neck was a collar- one very similar to the device one might find upon the neck of a dog. The leather collar itself was as black as night with a silver clasp. But the most baffling detail was the symbol on the material near the clasp. _

"_Are you part of Hellsing?" Seras prompted, upon seeing the coat-of-arms for said organization upon the black leather. The girl's smile fell slightly, yet her eyes showed that she'd expected the question. "I am," she replied with a curt nod after a brief moment of silence. "Who are you?" Seras continued her barrage. Again, the woman's lips twitched. "I can't remember, I'm afraid," she responded, her eyes losing their focus on reality, "Who I was is a greater mystery then who I will be." The woman looked up after a minute to catch Seras' curious gaze. Her eyes, under the rays of man-made light, seemed to distort to a dark burgundy. "But my Lady calls me, "Lucy"," she added._

""_Lady"? Do you mean Sir Integra?" Seras asked, grasping for possible answers. The girl simply nodded. "Wait," Seras frowned, "I just remembered, were you the one who called me?" Again, she nodded. Seras' gaze fell to the floor as her fists tightened in her distress. The screams were still fresh in her memory. It'd been such a long time since she'd been haunted so, and she couldn't help but wonder why her memories suddenly decided to resurface after so many years of repression._

"_Seras," the brunette, now known to be called "Lucy", called, her voice as smooth as honey. Seras felt a warm hand upon her shoulder. She looked up to meet the comforter's gaze. The pain in her head fled once the burgundy orbs took hold. "Please, don't be afraid," she whispered, "You don't have to be- not anymore." Seras scooted over- whether as to make room for her new companion or to get away from her, she wasn't sure. "Why?" Seras' line of thought came to a screeching halt as another, more important, idea came to mind. "I don't believe I told you my name."_

_Lucy, who had taken a seat at the other end of the bed, chuckled giddily. "That's correct." Seras frowned. Something wasn't right, yet somehow, she didn't feel the need to panic or fear. Just like the house with four yellow walls filled with sunlight, she felt safe with this person. "Then, how?"_

_Lucy's smile widened innocently. Her eyes reverted to their hazel-brown once more as she lifted a single finger to her lips as she softly whispered, "Shhh." She glanced sideways discreetly without moving her head towards the door. Seras turned to face the door, then back to Lucy questioningly. She gasped and nearly fell off the bed in surprise when she found two crimson eyes staring back at her. "Y-you're-" Seras stumbled for words. "Just like you," Lucy finished, practically speaking the exact words that had run through the police girl's head. Again, Lucy glanced towards the door. With a sad smile, she left her seat to pick her parasol up from the floor. She opened it with care and held it above her head. "He's coming for you," she frowned, twirling the object in her hands in nervous habit. "I can't be here when he does." "Who?" Seras asked simply, standing from the bed, ready to rush to open the door if what she'd said was true. _

_Lucy giggled again, her shy side blossoming at the query. She sent Seras a mischievous smile that spoke volumes before spinning the umbrella from her shoulder to distort her form into a swirl of white lace. _

"Police girl."

Seras' eyes snapped open as she launched into a sit. Her sleepy eyes danced across her bedroom until she found the origin of the call to her left leaning against the doorframe. His crimson eyes bore holes into her skull, but his stare always had that effect, regardless of the subject of the action.

"Master?" She muttered, her voice reflecting her recent awakening. Seras threw off the blankets and stood to her feet with a stretch. "Get ready." With a flash of his billowing red overcoat, the king of the undead was gone. Seras frowned. '_Was that really just a dream?'_


	2. The Haunting of Hellsing

**Chapter Two**

_The Haunting of Hellsing_

She hated him.

She'd not even known the man for twenty minutes before she'd decided. The new captain was a pompous git, she declared, her hands gripping the handle of the massive cannon in her hands. Her eyes narrowed at the cocky man in military garb sitting in the row of seats opposite her. When his azure eyes caught hers staring, he grinned suggestively. Seras' grip only tightened; she looked away in disgust.

The van carrying the team came to a stop. Immediately, the members of the team began to pile out of the van- guns cocked and bodies on edge. Every member quickly organized into a line, ready to receive the next order of action. Seras was on the end.

"Alright, men, you're going in. You've got fifteen minutes. Follow Stadler," Commander Fargason spoke as he walked the line. He glanced at his watch for the time and then nodded to the new captain. "Don't disappoint me. In and out in fifteen minutes," Stadler confirmed. Seras could barely hold back the desire to roll her eyes. The line slowly began to break as man after man entered the building.

"Victoria," he called, making her stop, reluctantly, in her quest to begin her mission, "planning to hide in the back of the unit, were you?" "No, sir," she answered back. "Then let's have that door down," he ordered as he traded hand items with the girl. Wanting nothing more than to be rid of him, she grabbed the device quickly and ran off to complete her duties.

As soon as she entered the building, she slid on a gas mask and readied her pistol as she joined the rest of her rank. As silent as a mouse, the team infiltrated the building. Door after door, they cleared each room until they reached one with a crying wounded man. "I'll get it," Seras volunteered. She stepped forward and emptied a cartilage into the man. He fell silent. Hearing the whispers of her comrades, she began a brief explanation, "It's a mercy. They become ghouls otherwise. I'll stay in the lead." With that said, the whispers ceased. Seras stepped forward and they all fell into her shadow.

The enemy, a group of ghouls, was not hard to find. The team easily found and removed of them. After the immediate danger was dealt with, the team broke up into single cells and dispersed in different directions. Seras headed east, checking rooms at every door.

As she was running down one of the hallways, she caught a glimpse of motion and quickly moved to conceal herself in a doorway. Cocking her gun, she peeked around the frame down the hall to catch a glimpse of brown tendrils floating on air. The person it was attached to disappeared into a room a little further ahead. She followed.

The King of the Undead

"_Alucard?" Her voice was sweet as the finest honey and as tempting as sin._

_The age-old vampire felt his eyes flutter open to find two bright burgundy eyes boring into his own unwavering crimson ones. Only one person, in all his life, had the ability to look him straight in the eye, especially with so much emotion held within the windows; it was her, the haunting siren of his dreams. _

_His hands lifted to entangle in her brown locks. An errant smirk reeled upwards from his lips, revealing a sharp, glittering white canine. The muscles of the king relaxed almost instantly once he felt the soft, light body of the woman land gracefully over his own. He tugged the locks to his lips; they trailed from the ends to the roots until he was again met by those red-stained, blank eyes that held so much inside. _

_The woman smiled all the more when his lips reached her own. It were these moments he treasured the most; it were these moments held only between the two opposites, who held nothing back only when in the arms of the other. "Alucard," she whispered over his breath as she rested her forehead against his own. Her hands, warmer than the sun he detested, caressed his lonely skin and set both his mind and body ablaze. His own arms snuck around her waist as his lips found the crook of her neck. _

"_Alucard," she whispered again into his ear, "Can I stay here, with you, forever?" His hands ceased their entanglement for the briefest of moments while the words registered in his twisted mind. Did he want her with him forever? This woman who was once human? Who'd become damaged by his own weakness? Did he really want to remain with a pure soul, a soul who contrasted so violently with his own warped and grotesque view of life? A woman who hated senseless killings and loved the products of the natural earth? Could he really ever keep such a free-loving creature made unto the darkness, who truly belonged in the light? Could he find it in himself to take it all away, just to have her in his arms?_

_A dangerous grin flitted across his lips. _

_Of course he could._

"_For as long as we shall live," he whispered back before stealing her lips once again with his own. "I knew you'd say that," she replied, pulling back with a teasing smile. "But of course." His grin widened suggestively, "Did you foresee this as well?" She gasped in surprise._

_As he always did in such a rare state of bliss, he felt the word roll off of his tongue. It was the word he'd long since marred as taboo, as the mere mentioning extorted the only weakness he'd ever known, the only emotion he'd ever truly felt…_

"…_Lucretia."_

"Alucard!" The husky, no-nonsense voice of his female master, the heir to the Hellsing family, called out to tear him from his slumber. The vampire's eyes drifted open; two blood-filled eyes glowed in the darkness of the room. Upon hearing his Master's beckoning, he did what he had always been compelled to do- answer.

The king lazily stood from his bed and shifted as a way to crack stilled bones and relax tensed muscles. Satisfied, he walked to the wall and melted into the shadows it cast.

As he usually did, he entered the room by slowly emerging upside down from the ceiling. Why, a sane person might ask? Why the hell not, the insane would reply. In the darkly lit room stood Sir Integra beside Walter; both were huddled in front of a computer. "M.I.5 has already taken action," his master spoke after setting the corded phone back upon its cradle. Alucard, having been called, could not refrain from making some remark to initiate himself into the situation, "There's something so human about finding delight in the deaths of one's fellow men."Having made his opinion clear with an unclear comment on the situation at hand, he focused on more important matters, like his _gun._ The one he had worked just fine, but after it's uselessness for fighting priests had been discovered, he'd lost interest in his once proud weapon. Now, he wanted one that was bigger, one that would not destroy, but _obliterate_ his enemy. With that in mind, he presented his problem to his oldest companion, Walter.

Naturally, his friend agreed to his request. Having done what he'd intended to do, he turned back to the shadows, prepared to leave. "Alucard," his master, Sir Integra, warned him. Alucard stopped in place out of habit; instantly, knowing her better than she knew herself, he denied what she would ask of him, "I cannot help. I belong to a world where all is death. Your world of choices was not meant for me to interfere with." He had left that world many years before, he spoke silently; in truth, he wasn't even sure, had he been alive, that he would have even belonged to such a world created and ruled by humans. He resumed his exit.

"_Your world is my world now, Alucard._" The undead king stopped in his tracks. His signature arrogant smirk fell from his face. A heavy frown took its place. Whose voice was it, now, that he was hearing? Was it madness, finally coming to claim him after so many years of narrow escapes? Or was it a ghost he'd sworn away from every ounce of his awoken conscious?

Alucard glanced over his shoulder to find the stern face of Sir Integra. It must be the madness, he decided as he turned to reply to her.

Brown, coffee colored tendrils replaced white; chocolate pools sparkled in the place of indigo; a small smile formed at her lips- all of this combined fiddled with his brain system. He would have resisted curiosity, had it not been for the shift of wind that coursed _her_ overpowering smell through his nostrils. "_Alucard,"_ her voice, dripping with broken innocence caged him where he stood. Her eyes narrowed as her smile grew sweeter; she tilted her head slightly in that fashion that could easily steal the heart of any man who dared glance her way. Her light pink lips parted as if to speak to him the words he'd longed for so many years to hear…

"Alucard." The shrill tone of reality shattered her image before him. Before him, again, were the angered indigo eyes of his master, rather than the humming brown of the woman who'd call him by the same title. Seeing the human woman before him, he smirked despite the crawling sensation under his skin and tilted his hat, "And a good evening to you, too, Ms. Hellsing." As he turned away, back into the shadows, the fake grin slid off his lips as the soft giggle of a ghost echoed through the corridors.

Seras

Seras didn't know why she'd followed her faulty senses. At first, she'd thought there had been a woman in the building and because of such followed to find if she was ally or foe. Much to her surprise, she followed her through every corridor, only to find that the route ended in a dark room. She looked around for the woman she'd followed, but could find no trace of her. When she asked the men of her cell if they'd seen her, they replied that they'd not seen anyone, and had been following her lead the entire time.

Seras was perplexed, but no more so when she found the bodies.

Bodies littered the wooden floor. Blood spotted the walls and corpses were strewn across the floor as to replace where there once was a rug. Looking closer at the indeterminable color of the walls, she discovered faint scrawls like wallpaper in gibberish. Directing her flashlight towards the other end of the room, she found even more bodies- six or eight, perhaps?

"Christ, what a mess," one of the soldiers behind her mumbled to himself. She was inclined to agree. Someone had been there, and recently; the killer they'd been searching for was messy, indeed- a sure characteristic of a ghoul, she believed.

_Seras._ The warm voice blazed in her ears like a snare drum. Looking up with lightening speed, she found the evasive woman.

As she had appeared in her dream, the woman was brunette, oddly dressed, and as radiant as the moon, itself. Upon her lips, she wore that taunting smile, and in her hands she held her trademark parasol. _Seras, _she whispered as she twirled her parasol with one hand; using the other, she gestured towards the shadows darting across the ceiling.

Seras cocked the weapon in her hand before the creature hiding in the shadows had the chance to strike. "Engaging the target," she spoke into her headset. The gun shots of her teammates ceased the second she pulled the trigger of her cannon. The creature stood no chance. "It looks like our target is entrenched on the third floor," she spoke, holding the speaker closer to her mouth this time so her superior could hear her over the damage the shell had done. "Don't worry," the man she strongly disliked, her new captain, replied, "I have it dealt with." A series of loud gunshots followed.

A swish of white caught her eye. Standing out of harm's way, stood the woman in white twirling her parasol as if it were a relaxing day in the sun. Her mischievous smile ensnared her attention; knowing she'd caught Seras' attention, the woman's smile stretched, revealing two very sharp, very inhuman fangs. The moonlight leaked into the room through a break in the boarded windows, encasing her eyes; two crimson orbs stared back into her own, intently.

"Victoria," her Commander's voice blared into her eardrum, nearly causing her to jump in surprise, "We need you to do a bit of rat catching." The woman- Lucy, as she had called herself- continued to stare, as if waiting for something. Seras struggled to split her attention between dream and reality; "What?" She replied into the headset, her focus still trained on the woman, as if her eyes straying would cause her to disappear.

Lucy's smile widened even more; she twirled the parasol in her hands and leaned the rod against her shoulder. In a swish of white, she exited through the only other door adjoining the room. Seras, again, followed her without a single moment's hesitation.

Sir Integra

It was all over the media, her little army. It was the one thing her organization did not need, for the public to know that they existed. Silently, she cursed the foe at fault and vowed to deal punishment where it was due.

Pulling up at the apartment swarmed by Hellsing that had been broadcasted only minutes prior to her arrival, she found Commander Peter Fargason waiting for her. Slamming the door of her luxury car hard enough to make any collector cringe, she began her slow advance towards the building.

"Quite a mess you've made," she directed towards the Commander. In turn, he politely bowed his head, "My apologies, Ma'am. The cleaning up process has already started." _Good_, she thought, glaring at the rundown apartment. Finally, they could begin the process of pushing Hellsing back into the shadows, out of the media's eyes and ears. She was concerned, to say the least, or at least she had been before her indigo irises clashed with the bloodiest of crimsons.

It was only a second.

For one brief moment, time stopped. In that silent sliver of a moment, she saw _her_ staring back at her through the only window left unbarred. At first, she'd thought she'd seen a glimpse of white, which she'd shrugged off as her own imagination. But those eyes- blind to the world, yet containing far more than any being on Earth could possibly know- could not be dreamt up by any human imagination. She knew it to be true, for no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to forget the dizzy revelation shrouding the one being she could never forget.

For only a second, her heart stopped beating and air became as heavy as lead inside her lungs.

"_Hello?" The young white haired girl with large indigo eyes peered inside the stone monument. Using what little strength she possessed, she pulled the heavy wooden door until the crack between outside and inside was just enough for her to slip through. _

_Peering outside, she found only an endless field of sunflowers, in which her father had disappeared to only minutes before to greet the keeper of the building that know ensnared her interest. She only allowed that one glance before taking in a rush of air into her lungs and sliding into the ancient monument her family had kept guarded for longer than she was allowed to know. _

_The inside was more and less what she'd imagined it to be. Her father had mentioned the "monument" once on their business trip to France; he'd told her it was a special place, and was very important to the Hellsing family, and that it would be just as special to her. What he didn't tell her was _why_, and it irked her curiosity greatly. How could this old stone building be so _special_? _

_Inside the only light to be found was the small sliver of light leaking through the only entrance to the single-roomed monument; a few lit candles sat on handcrafted metal stands and were littered about the room in no specific order, but they shed very little light unto the darkness. Using her hand against the cold stone walls, she cautiously made her way into the center of the room where some type of upraised stand stood. _

_She remembered, looking back, every beat of her rattled heart, every sound her small feet made as they touched down upon the marble floor. She remembered, clearest of all, the next few minutes that would the finding of truth. _

_The building was no monument, she realized as she reached the center- it was a __**tomb**__._

_Lying upon the marble slab in a lidless coffin was a young woman not a few years older than herself. She looked as if she had lost her life recently, between the fragile time between child and adult. Her skin was pale, yet it still radiated the gentle warmth of the living body. Her long hair was glossy at best, and the chocolate strands fell around her like a halo of humanity. She looked as if she were simply sleeping, Integra had thought. But she knew she was no longer alive, for she had been showered and laid upon a bed of sunflowers, her hands permanently joined together in eternal prayer. Oddly, the woman wore century old dress that had since been left to tatter and spoil with time, something that had evaded the body. She pondered that, but something about the woman drew her closer and halted the racing questions reigning inside her skull. Her feet shuffle noisily closer until she was mere inches from touching the old tomb itself. _

_Her heart, strangely, she later realized, had not leapt forward in pure fright. When the cold hands of the corpse untangled to grasp her own, she did not fret. Instead, upon the contact, her body relaxed euphorically as if instead of being held captive by a corpse, she'd been embraced by a field of sunflowers. _

_The corpse's eyes flickered between being open and closed as the eyes beneath adjusted to a lesser darkness, or so she'd thought. Those honey brown eyes shifted from the paintings of angels upon the ceiling to Integra's innocent indigo orbs. A soft caressing smile shattered the stillness of her lips. Her heart began to beat faster, she remembered, as the woman lifted from the grave to life. But it was comforting, somehow, as if the woman were someone she'd always known, who'd always held nothing for her but love. _

_The unseeing eyes, she noted, fell upon her as if she really could see her standing there before her. Gently, the woman lifted her hand to caress Integra's cheek. Her lips again moved, parted to speak to her, "Hello, child." Her smile grew fondly as her fingers twisted into the white tresses. _

"_W-who are you?" She'd asked, fighting the calm that engulfed her upon the woman's touch. The woman's smile remained immovable, but the shape of her eyes narrowed with sorrow, "I'm afraid that I don't remember." Integra vaguely noted the leather chocker binding her throat, nor did she notice the soft white scar upon her forehead, now revealed where bangs had long grown out. The woman's fingers fell from Integra's hair to clutch at the silver cross strung upon a chain around her neck. "You can't remember your name?" Integra had asked, perplexed by the idea of someone forgetting something as simple as their own name. _

_The woman's hand dropped as her head tilted slightly, her smile turned taunting; "I'm afraid not, my Lady Hellsing." She'd gasped, Integra recalled. "How do I know your name?" The woman spoke, asking the very question Integra had been thinking to ask. The woman chuckled lightly, softer than the flowers that embraced her body like a quilt of life. Her hand lifted to the leather device upon her throat, "Do you see this symbol, my Lady?" She tilted her head to the side to reveal Integra's very own family crest upon the black leather. The woman turned back to her, her smile softer than before as she explained, "This makes you my Lady, Ms. Hellsing, and I, your humble servant. I've been waiting a great deal of time to meet you, my Lady." The mysterious woman offered her hand._

_Integra had been captivated the second she'd entered the field of towering flowers, she'd later realized. Without hesitation, she took the hand offered to her and shook it, enticing a happy beam from the woman, as well as one of her own. It was one of the only times she'd ever laughed, she thought bitterly; and it had been with a woman whose name she hadn't even known._

"_What should I call you?" Integra had wondered aloud minutes later. The woman's eyes shimmered with knowing; "You are the one I've been waiting for, to call me by name." Integra's eyebrows furrowed. She didn't know anything about this woman, much less her name! She supposed her only option was to guess rationally. But what would she do if she were wrong, if she called her by the wrong name?_

"_You won't," the honey brown eyes reassured her. And inside, she felt that reassurance flow through every blood vessel, in every cell that made her alive. The word was not a thought, nor was it a random choice word._

"_Lucy." _

_It was her _name.

_Her eyes, in that moment, became clearer, as if an eternal downpour of rain upon her had ceased, as if the sun had peeked out from behind the dark clouds to shine down upon her._

_She'd never forget that moment, Integra knew; nor would she forget those blind eyes or the name she'd known before her own._

"Lucy…"

"Sir Integra?" The Commander questioned, concerned by the stare of horror upon her face. "Is everything alright, Sir Integra?" Integra returned from her memories to find an empty window before her line of vision. "Yes," she replied after a moment's pause. She had been rattled, without a doubt. The Commander saw that as clearly as she did, but he let the topic go out of respect for his superior.

Silently, she turned away, headed back for her car. Once inside, she reached into her jacket pocket with shaking fingers and clumsily dialed a number. She held the device to her ear and heard it ring three times before the man on the other end picked up. "Walter? Do you have the footage streaming from the apartment?" "Yes, Sir Integra," he replied. "Good, I need you to destroy it, but first I need you to find something for me." "Of course, Sir," he replied after a brief pause, "May I ask what it is I'm looking for?" Integra paused, staring out the windshield as the Hellsing vehicles began to leave the scene. She weighed her chances, and prayed to God himself that Alucard would never hear of what she was about to say, "I need you to look for _her._" "Who, Sir Integra? Seras?" "No," she bit her lip as the scales of her decision tipped heavily to one side. "It's not Seras, Walter….it's Lucy."

Integra disconnected the phone line.

Staring up at the empty window, she sincerely hoped that she was wrong, that her tired mind had created the illusion of a ghost. But her gut, however, was twisted, telling her that that was only wishful thinking.


End file.
